


it's you that i lie with (DreamNotFound)

by c418mall



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Love Confessions, M/M, Minecraft Manhunt, Unrequited Love, basically just angst oh god, deathbed confessions, friends to enimies to lovers ?? idk man i wrote this late on four hours of sleep, oneshot i think also kinda short but yeeaahhhh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:54:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28451970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/c418mall/pseuds/c418mall
Summary: George runs into the man he’s to be hunting down, but something’s wrong.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 59





	it's you that i lie with (DreamNotFound)

**Author's Note:**

> hello !! so i’ve never posted on ao3 before so bear with me with the tags and stuff, but i hope u enjoy :) 
> 
> dedicated to my best friends tyghnan and emma ily >:D
> 
> (title is a lyric from the song as the world caves in by matt maltese)

“Oh Dream~,” George muttered, one hand tightly clenching his blue crystal sword, the other tracing along the damp, dusty stone walls of the underground stronghold he was in. “Where are you?”

It was deathly silent other than the British boy’s footsteps echoing and the distant conspiring of silverfish. He turned each corner carefully, holding his breath as he peeked around, looking for one certain masked man. He’d been separated from his group, but he’d figured he'd be alright on his own. 

George stopped for a second. Footsteps. Coming from the distance, just a few rooms up ahead. The man started walking faster, then running, grasping his weapon tighter, ready for a battle. He carefully bent round the intersection into a dungen room, and there he was. George would recognise darned green hoodie anywhere. 

The hooded man was leaning against a wall, facing away from George, standing strangely still. His blindingly bright, steel sword dangling by his side loosely, his other hand hidden.

George smirked, trying to mask his nervousness about confronting that man, especially alone. “I found you, Dream,” He exclaimed with an exhale, trying to sound confident. 

Dream lifted his head slightly, then slowly turned around, limping. George focused his gaze onto the man’s other hand, and there it was, the runner’s haunting white mask. The hand-painted smiley face on it looked defeated, somehow. He wasn’t wearing the mask. Dream always wears the mask. 

George held his breath, then looked up at the man’s face. And he was just as daughting as George had imagine him to be. It was the same messy blonde hair, the same gentle freckles, the same longing emerald eyes he remembered. He hadn’t seen Dream without his mask in years. 

Dream smiled. He didn’t smirk or grin; he smiled. He smiled at not his hunter, but at his old friend. “You found me, George,” He replied weakly, in almost a whisper. 

That was when George noticed it. The blood staining Dream’s green hoodie, the way the man was slightly crouched over, using the wall for support. 

He’d been stabbed. 

George was in shock. Was this a trick? He stood still, frozen, halfway across from the man he was to be hunting. 

Dream suddenly dropped his sword and coughed. Blood spit out onto the floor, and the man slowly bent down, falling to the ground. 

George immediately ran towards him, dropping his sword as well. He fell down on his knees next to Dream, staring at the man. He lifted his shivering hands and touched the runner’s hoodie, the blood quickly seeping out of Dream’s stomach, George’s hands now covered in blood too. He could barely hear Dream’s shaky breath over his own. 

“Wait, wait, no, please,” George stuttered. “This isn’t real. This can’t be real. Please, please don’t be real,”  
Dream laughed weakly, then coughed up more blood.  
“Why are you laughing, Dream? Now of all times, y- you fucking laugh?” George’s got louder, his breaths uneven and fast.  
“You’re supposed to be trying to kill me, George, shouldn’t you be overjoyed I’m bleeding, bleeding out?” Dream’s voice was raspier and quieter than usual, breathing slowly in and out, tasting every last bit of air he could, savoring it. His vision was blurring slightly, but he looked up at the man kneeling next to him, he could make out the tears forming in George’s eyes. 

“It- It wasn’t supposed to be like this, you were supposed to escape us like you always do, you were supposed to win, you always win, wh- why the fuck did you not win? Why didn’t you win, Dream? Why would you do this- why would you…”  
Dream smiled again, blinking slowly, but keeping eye contact with the other boy. “I guess, I guess you got me this time,” He whispered. 

Tears started rolling down George’s eyes, and he hastily put his hands behind Dream’s back, picking him up slightly and gently placing the dying man on his lap. “No, no, no, I refuse to believe that, please don’t go, Dream, please don’t, please don’t leave me,” 

Dream’s blood was being smeared all over him, but George didn’t care at all. 

“It’s gonna… It’s gonna be okay, George,” Dream’s voice got softer, his eyes closing. He was using all he had left in him to keep them open, to keep looking at George. 

George shook his head meekly, unable to say anything more. Dream kept smiling, and George just wanted to scream at him, about his reasoning for leaving George behind, about how it seemed Dream never cared for him, about the years they spent trying to kill each other, about the fact Dream was smiling like he had no care in this stupid, blocky world as he bled to death. In George’s arms. 

_Why, Dream? Why?_

No words left George’s mouth. 

Dream faintly lifted up his hand, and George immediently grabbed it. “George, I’m,” He took a break to cough again. “I’m sorry,” 

George shook his head again, this time more desperate and aggresive, tears cascading down his cheek uncontrolably. He took his free hand and lightly put it on Dream’s cheeck, holding his face. 

Dream’s breath faltered. “I’m so sorry. I love you George. So much, so, so much,” He whispered. 

George closed his eyes, letting the tears fall. “Oh, Dream...” Was all he could get out. The man opened his eyes again, and looked down. Dream wasn’t smiling anymore. His eyes were still open, though the greenery in it had decayed. The grass had died, the leaves shriveled, the emeralds turned to stone. Dream looked up into the distance, frozen. 

“No, no, no, no,” George kept repeating, hyperventilating. “I love you too, I love you too so much, I never stopped loving you, come back to me, please come back to me Dream, don’t leave me,” The boy begged, bending over, squeezing Dream tighter. 

Dream didn’t respond.


End file.
